


see the world right by your side

by oceanvirus



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant Through Season 1, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Mistletoe, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 10:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11507316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanvirus/pseuds/oceanvirus
Summary: In which Jake realizes he should never tell Charles he'll doanythingfor some help...and then changes his mind.Or, Jake and Amy's first kiss, à la Bones and Booth's first onscreen kiss





	see the world right by your side

**Author's Note:**

> ok so before u say anything, yes i wrote a christmas fic in mid-july, don't judge me
> 
> basically i used to be obsessed with bones (the tv show) and i rewatched the santa in the slush the other day and was like :o what if this is how jake and amy's first kiss happened so here we are...i'm not usually one for AUs such as this one but i couldn't shake the image of charles positively weeping in the background while jake and amy unintentionally make out in front of him
> 
> also huge ginormous shoutout to @elsaclack and @hotelsweet for being kind enough to read this over and make sure it isn't a Flaming Dumpster Fire 
> 
> title is from merry christmas, happy holidays by NSYNC because......because
> 
> enjoy!

“Nope, not happening.”

“Pleeease, Charles, I’m desperate.”

“Why do you even need tea? You hate tea, Jake.”

“Because my mom has a cold and it's a nice thing to do. Please?” Jake whines, clambering through the bullpen after his indignant friend. 

Charles stops, whirling around with an accusatory finger aimed at Jake. “You insulted the most sacred Mr. Pittles’ Pizza. You will get no tea from this boy.”

Jake sighs, shoulders slumping. “C’mon, buddy. It’s Christmas. Time for friendship?” He adds uncertainly, the question hanging in the air. 

“Your mom doesn't even celebrate Christmas. And it would be time for friendship, had you not disgraced the good name of Mr. Pittles.” Charles huffs, picking up his bag from where it sat on Jake’s desk. 

“Okay, okay. I just need one little teeny box of tea bags. That kind of tea got rid of my last head cold in two days, my mom’s been out sick for _four_ days, and you're the only one who knows where to get it.” Jake says, implementing his best take-pity-on-me voice. “I'll do anything.” 

The words leave Jake’s lips without a thought and he’s immediately filled with regret, Charles’ eyes sparkling with a distinct mischievousness that can only mean trouble. 

“Anything, huh?”

“....yes.”

“Tell me, does kissing Amy under the mistletoe count as _anything_?” Charles grins. A long moment passes of uncomfortable silence before Jake’s sputtered response breaks it. 

“Charles, no. Absolutely no. You're crazy.”

“Fine, then I’m not telling you where to find the tea!” He shoots back, adamant. 

Jake heaves a sigh, desperation taking on his tone. “Can’t I just take you for dinner, or buy you a new panini press for Christmas or something?” 

Charles stands abruptly, grabbing his jacket and slinging it over one shoulder melodramatically. “You kiss Amy Santiago on the lips or you and your mother go tea-less this holiday season.”

“Wait, no– Charles!” Jake calls, but all he catches is his friend’s smug wave as the elevator doors close on him. 

“Fantastic.”

He sinks back into his seat and runs a hand through his hair in irritation. Charles has always had this weird fixation on Jake’s feelings for Amy, but he's never gone so far as to suggest something like this. The events of their road-trip-turned-break-up-fest a mere month and a half ago was just starting to settle, and Jake and Amy were finally back to a semi-normal rhythm. 

Jake still doesn't know what had compelled him to knock on Amy’s door rather than Sophia’s that night, but part of him is glad he did. Jake really did like Sophia, but he had been refusing to admit to himself that he wasn't over Amy. It was only a matter of time before something happened, and that something had come in the form of a disastrous double date at a B&B haunted by fancy ghosts. Sophia had left, Teddy had booked another room for himself for the night, and Jake and Amy had sat in semi-awkward silence before deciding to let things settle instead of rushing into anything. 

It isn't like Jake is against the idea of kissing Amy – if anything, it’s the opposite. There’s nothing he wants more, but the problem doesn't lie in his own feelings; it’s Amy. She's been somewhat closed off for a while after the road trip, and is just barely starting to open back up again – no matter how much Jake wants to sweep her off her feet at any given moment (and truly, it’s a _lot_ ), he wants Amy to feel comfortable around him more. 

Heaving another sigh, he looks over at her currently empty desk chair and tries to ignore the dull aching in his chest. 

***

“He wants us to kiss?” Amy frowns, fidgeting with the straw in her drink nervously. The abject panic in her voice rings true, and Jake tries to hide his disappointment as he tips back his beer. The muted sounds of the nearly-empty bar around them are suddenly too quiet, and he’s wishing that it were a lot busier. 

“Yeah. I tried to sway him but he's mad because I said that Mr. Pittles’ Pizza tasted just like Domino’s.” He mumbles. 

“Yikes. Why can't you just google where to find this tea?”

“Trust me, I tried. I don't even know if it's an actual tea shop, or one of Boyle’s weird foodie friends or something. All I know is that my mom is absolutely miserable right now and the tea is probably my best bet on fixing that.” Jake laments, leaning on the counter slightly. “Plus, I don't think Charles...gets it.”

“Gets what?” Amy’s brow furrows. 

He heaves a sigh, steeling himself. He’s been avoiding telling anyone the real reason he wanted to help his mom so badly, but Amy might as well know; it's not like he has anything to hide. Setting down his beer, he clears his throat and launches into an explanation. “She, uh...she can't go into work when she's this sick, especially ‘cause she works with kids, and I guess her paid sick days are almost all used up. She's got one more after today, then she kinda has to go back if she wants to pay her bills on time. I just…” he pauses, his stomach swirling unpleasantly with emotion. “I wish I could help her out a little more.”

Amy’s eyes catch his, and Jake is almost taken aback by the empathy in her gaze. She smiles gently, her hand patting his forearm consolingly, and he tries to ignore the way his heart just skipped a beat in favour of returning her smile.

“Chin up, Pineapples. You'll figure it out.” Amy reassures, and Jake nods slightly before clinking his bottle to her glass and settling back, eyes shining with gratitude and poorly-veiled adoration. 

***

Amy really doesn't know how she ended up here. She has no idea how she’d driven to the nearest dollar store on her lunch break, no specific recollection of finding a parking spot and marching determinedly towards the Christmas decor section. All she’s certain of is the apprehension rolling through her gut as she sets the small bundle of mistletoe on the counter and digs for her wallet. 

The cashier is an older woman with a judgemental gaze and silvery-grey hair pulled into a rather severe bun. She studies Amy for a moment, eyes narrowing, before turning her attention back to the register, and Amy’s face suddenly feels warm. 

“I’m...uh, I’m doing a favour. For a friend. Colleague. A someone.” She mutters, her cheeks growing warmer with every word. 

“Uh huh. Four dollars.” The cashier drawls, entirely unimpressed. 

She slaps down the cash, hastily taking her purchase and shoving it deep into her purse as she hurries out the door to the safety of her car. 

The moment the car door closes, she sighs, sinking down into the seat and leaning her head on the steering wheel. Buying that stupid little sprig was probably the scariest thing she's done in a while, and she arrested a big-time drug supplier in the midst of a shootout two days ago. 

Amy has never been one to take risks. If she absolutely had to, the risk would be well-calculated – she would've made a list of pros and cons, done a detailed cost-benefit analysis in her head and on paper, and consulted at least three superior officers before going ahead with it. 

The only thing she consults this time is the swell of affection that takes over her thoughts when she pictures Jake’s dejected face the night before, the utter self-disappointment in his expression when he’d admitted that he just wanted to make his mom happy. 

That feeling alone is more than enough, so she sits up straight, starts her car, and drives off with a determined nervousness in her heart. 

***

It’s just nearing 2 o’clock when the elevator door dings, signaling someone's arrival. Looking up from his report, Jake is met with Amy marching through the doors, back straight as a board and hands shoved firmly in her pocket.

“Santiago? Something wrong?” Terry calls from his desk, his expression worried. 

“Not at all, Sarge, everything is perfectly great, absolutely fine, I have never been better!” She stammers loudly. Walking through the gate, she makes a beeline to where Jake sits, grabbing his forearm and dragging him rather unceremoniously after her. 

“Jesus, Amy, what–”

“Quiet. Come with me.” She grumbles, eyes darting back and forth nervously. 

“Okay….you know, you could've said that before attempting to break my arm, I would've gladly complied– will you loosen your grip? What is with you today?” He yanks his arm back, bewilderment growing by the second. 

Wordlessly, Amy leads him to the evidence lockup, where she shoves him in and closes the door, face bright red. 

“Is-is everything okay?” Jake asks, his eyebrows knitting together in an even mix of confusion and concern. 

“Okay. Um. I know how much you wanted to help out your mom.” She mumbles as she rifles through her purse. “So I...uh. I bought this. If you want.”

Jake's eyes follow hers down, and his stomach does a flip – from the very bottom of her bag, she had produced a small sprig of mistletoe. 

“I...I just was out on my break, and I couldn't stop thinking about how- how bummed you looked last night, and I thought how much you wanted to help your mom was really sweet, and I wouldn't...y’know, be totally against…uh…yeah.” She finishes, looking away. 

A long moment passes with nothing but the two breathing and the sound of Jake's own heart hammering in his ears. 

“Why aren't you saying anything? Oh, my god, you think I’m being weird. Okay, never mind. Sorry.” Amy sputters as she turns to walk out the door. Almost involuntarily, Jake reaches out to stop her, and his hand grabs hers before it can touch the doorknob. She turns to face him, her eyes wide, and he feels his face heat up as he drops her hand.

“No- no, I don't think that. I just...you caught me off guard.” He mumbles, frowning slightly. “I mean…are you sure? You really don't have to.” 

“No, I want to.” She blurts. “I– I mean, I want to help. It wouldn't be that big of a deal.” 

“It's not like it would...mean anything. People do mistletoe kisses all the time, right?” 

“R-right. Just a professional courtesy, holiday spirit.” She mumbles, and the slight disappointment in her face is nearly imperceptible. 

“Alright, cool. Cool, cool. Should I–”

“I’ll go get him.” Amy cuts him off with a warm, albeit anxious smile, and the tension in his expression practically melts away. She motions to the mistletoe sitting on the shelf then to the ceiling, clearing her throat. “Can you, uh, do you think you can get it up?”

“ _Do you think you can get it up_ , title of your sex tape.” Jake mumbles, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a small smile. 

“I hope you are aware that I'm willing and able to change my mind and let you suffer.” She smirks slyly, her hand resting on the doorknob. 

“I’m sorry, I'll be good, I promise!” Jake squeaks, his voice cracking as he rushes to get the words out. Amy laughs quietly, shaking her head as she steps out and closes the door behind her. 

A few moments later, Amy reappears with Charles in tow, ushering him in and closing the door behind them. Jake had been rehearsing what to tell Charles over and over, but judging by the absolute joy in his eyes, he realizes Amy had already explained. Probably for the best, too – he’s not entirely sure he can trust his brain-to-mouth filter right now. 

“Okay. Uh...Charles told me it has to be five steamboats long.” Amy says, her eyes refusing to meet anyone’s. 

“Cool. Cool, yep. Five boats. Steamboats. Five of those.” Jake’s words are stumbling out as though he has no control over them, and the small, knowing smile on Amy’s face only makes it worse.

Amy backs up slowly – apparently too slowly, because suddenly Charles’ hands are ushering her to where Jake waits under the mistletoe and Jake has to bite back a laugh at how ready she looks to sucker-punch him. 

“Now get to it, you lovebirds!” Charles chirps as he gives Amy one final shove, her hands flailing slightly and landing softly on Jake’s chest. The tips of her ears are pink and Jake’s breath hitches when her gaze meets his, her deep brown eyes swimming with nervous energy. 

“H-hi.” She mumbles, barely louder than a whisper, and before he can formulate a proper response, he’s leaning towards her and her lips are on his and whatever coherency he had left in his mind abandons him altogether. 

Charles said five steamboats, and Jake is really, really hoping that Amy is counting because it's hard to focus on anything when her hands are sliding up his chest, and her lips are soft and firm as they move in tandem with his, and he can feel her heart beating just as erratically as his is. In fact, he’s positive that the only thing he’ll be able to think about for the next two weeks is the small hum she makes when his arms slink around her waist to draw her closer, or the way she’s practically melting into him, or how his knees temporarily go weak in the brief moment that their tongues touch. 

What could've easily been either five steamboats or five hundred steamboats passes before Jake realizes that he really needs to breathe, so with the utmost unwillingness, he pulls away from Amy, their foreheads leaning against each other for a moment before their eyes meet. He’s pretty sure Charles is actually crying but he can’t seem to take his gaze away from the look of uninhibited awe in Amy’s eyes that, without a doubt, matches his expression exactly. 

She smiles an impossibly small smile that Jake will never recover from before turning to face Charles, her cheeks flushed. 

“Was that enough steamboats?” Her voice cracks as she asks, tucking her hair behind both ears nervously. 

Charles wipes an honest-to-goodness tear from his eye, nodding profusely. “A whole flotilla. Oh, I am over the moon. _Over the moon!_ I'll have your tea tomorrow!” His hand clutches at his chest as he turns to leave, waltzing away as if he were floating on air. 

He closes the door behind him and then it’s just Jake and Amy and that stupid plant. A long moment passes, unspoken words hanging in the air, before Amy clears her throat. 

“So, uh–”

“Th-that was...I mean, I’m sorry. I kinda got carried away.” Jake turns to face her, swallowing down the nervousness in his tone. 

“It's okay, I think we're both at fault. You’re, uh, pretty good at that.” She mumbles, before her eyes grow wide and her whole face turns pink once again.

Jake laughs quietly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, the mistletoe’s still there if you're up for round two.”

Amy rolls her eyes, grinning up at him. “How do you manage to gain the composure to make a joke not two minutes after we basically made out in front of our coworker?”

He bites the inside of his cheek nervously, weighing his sudden options. He could brush it off as a joke. He could smile back at her and rattle off some line about how being charming comes naturally to him. But something about the nervous energy in the room paired with the way Amy keeps absentmindedly touching her lips gives him the slightest sense of confidence, so he speaks before it goes away.

“Mm, probably because I wasn't joking.” He's surprised at the steadiness of his own voice, considering he feels nowhere near as self-assured as he sounded just now. Amy's eyes widen in what appears to be panic, and Jake is just about to apologize and wallow in shame but his planned self-pity party is stopped before it starts when Amy’s hand lands softly on his chest. 

Jake meets her gaze and smiles softly at her before leaning down to meet her lips again, and all he can think as Amy’s hands come up to cradle his face and his arms snake around her waist to pull her closer is how glad he is that he decided to insult his best friend’s favourite pizza restaurant. 

Sal’s is way better anyways.


End file.
